“The ordinary response to atrocities is to banish them from consciousness.”

I want nothing more than to follow Judith Herman’s wisdom and push out the bulk of how overrated and overwhelming my senior year felt at times. I came out with no more regrets than the next person.

My friend Kenya took his life this year and I never can go back and hang out with him again to fully understand his suffering. My diverse and vibrant friend group split for all the wrong reasons and I felt a tremendous burden to reevaluate being with people I trust. My grades bottomed out senior year as I played a sport I didn’t always feel a part of and worked a job that sucked the life from me. And the list goes on as I lashed out at family and friends that wanted to help.

But I’m not dwelling on the bad. I live for the good that came after.

I finished my last year out on the news staff. Four years. Intro to senior year. I took photos of almost every sport at Manhattan. I’ve interviewed an olympic swimmer, trampolinists, local musicians and a multitude of athletes. I saw the state fair in all of its BFK glory and walked among the white people with dreads in the streets of Denver. All in the name of writing competitions and conventions that I saw a crazy amount of art and storytelling that goes past these opaque walls we call school.

And then so much more to be appreciative for. But I will demonstrate brevity in my farewells.

To my fellow teammates on the football team. I will certainly miss playing with you guys and hanging out off the field. That being said, I know what you guys do off the field. Remember who you are and do not mess that up.

To my friends, I will miss the late nights at Varsity truck and the bonfires we love far too much. I’ve never been changed more by anyone than by being with you guys and sharing our love and grief with each other and for each other.

Hey Josh. I do not always show it. But I love you to death and I’m incredibly proud of what you do in school and baseball and will blow up your phone to ask how school is going. Yearbook with you was a bizarre and unbelievable amount of fun.

Kristy Nyp. My journalism adviser. Thank you for finding the compassion to swing me in the right direction these past four years and for completely turning the paper around from what it was.

To my newspaper compadres, I have more goodbyes for you soon.

And to the rest of the school, it’s easy to dwell on the bad and be sorry for yourself. It’s hard to get past that flak and continue with your life.

Take your pick.